Questions Best Left Unanswered
by Vanillasiren
Summary: Ever wonder how Regina met Maleficent? Well, I have a theory … what's that, you say? You think my theory somehow involves Rumplestiltskin? Why, however did you know? Set during Regina's apprenticeship.


Questions Best Left Unanswered

Summary: Ever wonder how Regina met Maleficent? Well, I have a theory … what's that, you say? You think my theory somehow involves Rumplestiltskin? Why, however did you know? Set during Regina's apprenticeship. The beginning of a friendship. Oh, and there's also a bunch of sexy angst for Rumple/Regina. Because I just can't help myself.

"Rumplestiltskin?"

He doesn't look up from his spinning wheel. "Yes?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Aren't you already asking me one?"

Regina sighs. "Rumple …"

"Alright then. You have a question, a real question? I will answer it then …" He stops spinning and turns to face her. "If you can show me you've mastered the conjuring spell."

He looks at Regina expectantly, and she takes a deep breath, trying to concentrate, to form a picture in her mind of what she wants to create, but it's difficult.

In a swish of magic, an apple as red as blood appears in her hand.

"There, I did it." He gives her a piercing look, and she tries not to blink. "See?"

Her teacher stands and approaches her. He takes the apple from her and examines it, gingerly.

"Now, you didn't just use a summoning spell, did you? To bring it from the tree in the palace?"

"No …"

He places a hand under her chin, and tilts her face up. "Look at me, my wicked one, and tell me true."

"I … well … maybe … I did." Regina admits, and he tuts at her. "How did you know? I thought you said I was becoming such a liar good liar …"

"Not with me, dearie. I know you too well. Every part of you," he adds, brushing the back of his hand across her cheek. Regina feels a shiver of anticipation go down her spine.

"Try again, Regina. The conjuring spell, not the summoning one."

"But I …"

"Just do it," he says, in a tone that brooks no room for argument. "Trust yourself," he adds softly.

Regina nods, and she concentrates. She forces her mind to fasten on to a simple image, not allowing it to elude her.

In time, a small pastry appears on the table beside them.

Her teacher looks pleased. Food is the hardest thing to conjure, she knows. It's more difficult than a book or a tool or some other object.

He reaches for the morsel and takes an experimental bite. "Passable," he says, as he smirks at her, "But I think it could use a little cinnamon."

"I'm a sorceress, not a pastry chef."

He sets it aside. "Indeed," he says, and tucks a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "Now then, for your reward. You had a question?"

"Why do you spin so much?"

It takes a moment, but Regina realizes the question has caught him off guard. He blinks at her, and she knows this is one those moments she never has the courage to comment on.

A moment when he seems more human.

"It helps me forget."

"Forget what?"

He gives her a sad smile. "Well now, that would be telling, wouldn't it?"

"You said you'd answer my question!"

"And I did. You asked why I spin so much, and I told you. Answering a _second _question was not part of the deal."

Regina lets out a frustrated sigh. "But …"

"But what?"

"You told me once … that you knew everything about me."

"So I did. And what of it?"

"So … so don't I get to know anything about you?"

He slips an arm around her waist, drawing her to him, and Regina can already feel herself responding to his closeness, his touch. He's trying to distract her.

And damn it if it isn't working.

"I'd say you know me well enough, my wicked one." He nuzzles her neck. "But perhaps you'd care to … reacquaint?"

"That's … that's not what I meant, and you know it –"

He cuts her off with a kiss, and suddenly, her question seems very unimportant –

"Rumple dear, I was wondering if I could borrow … oh … forgive me, I didn't realize you were … busy …"

The two break apart, turning to face the golden-haired sorceress that Regina knows only by reputation.

"You're Maleficent," she gasps, and the woman grins wickedly.

"I'm so flattered you've heard of me, your majesty." Her eyes dart to Rumplestiltskin, and she smirks.

"You know, when Jefferson told me that you'd taken Leopold's queen under your tutelage, I could scarcely believe it. And now I see that not only was he telling the truth for once, but there are even a few … _interesting_ details that he neglected to mention."

"Maleficent, that's quite –"

"Oh come, don't be cross with me. Now, your majesty …"

"Please, I'm just Regina here."

"Are you? Well then, _Regina_, come here and let me get a good look at you."

Regina glances at her teacher, and he nods. She walks over to Maleficent, who takes both of the queen's hands in her own, and looks her over appraisingly.

"Ah. She's quite powerful, this one." Maleficent flashes her teeth at Regina. "You're not going to rip my heart out, are you my dear?

Regina flashes her teeth back. "Only if you cross me," she says, and Maleficent cackles.

"Oh, I _like _you!" She turns to Rumplestiltskin. "You always did have such exquisite taste."

"Yes, and you always did have such horrendously bad timing." But he's smiling despite himself, something almost akin to fondness shining in his eyes. "What is it you're wanting this time, dearie?"

"Oh nothing much, just a spinning wheel …"

He sighs. "Again? Really?"

"Yes, really."

"You do remember how it ended the first time …"

"She has a daughter." Maleficent's tone is no longer light and cordial, and her face darkens.

"Yes, but if you recall, neither she nor her daughter was actually the one to slay –"

"I don't _care_!" The sorceress snaps. "I will have blood for blood! I will chase my vengeance down through the generations, on and on, until the debt is paid!"

Rumplestiltskin giggles delightedly. "Oh my. I had almost forgotten how magnificently twisted you are."

"Thank you. But if it's all the same to you, I'd prefer the spinning wheel over your flattery."

"Very well. And what are you offering in exchange?"

"My everlasting gratitude, old friend."

"Dearie, if you're not serious about making a deal, you can see yourself out."

"Fine, fine. My raven, then. Diablo. You can have him for as long as I borrow the spinning wheel. With the right spell, he might even be able to make it to that non-magical realm that you seem so eager to find for some unfathomable reason. He could carry a message at least, or do some scouting."

Rumplestiltskin appears to consider. "Hmm … yes. That seems reasonable. Very well."

"Good. Just so long as I get him back in one piece when you're done."

"Yes, you are quite fond of your pets, aren't you? Oh dearie, when will you learn that love is a weakness?"

"About as soon as you do, Rumplestiltskin."

Up until that point, their conversation had been pleasant, almost friendly, but now, Regina feels the tension in the room rise. Rumplestiltskin's expression hardens.

"You go too far, Maleficent. Besides which, I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

Her gaze darts over to Regina. "Don't you?"

Regina feels her heart thunder in her chest. Her lips part, but no sound comes out.

Maleficent breaks the choking silence with an awkward laugh. "I always do take things a bit too far, I suppose. But you will forgive me, won't you?" Without waiting for an answer, she takes his arm.

"Come, walk me out, and we'll discuss the details of our deal."

As they make their way, Maleficent mutters, "Sorry about that."

"No you're not," he snaps, but he can't bring himself to be too angry with her. The Dark One does not have friends, but even so, he's always admired her fortitude, and she's proven herself a useful ally at times.

"You're right, I'm not. So, how long have you been bedding the girl?"

"None of your damn business, and she's _not_ a girl. She's a woman. A queen, and a perfectly evil one too."

"Oh, I wouldn't say she's so evil as all that," the sorceress says softly.

"She's ripped hearts out, Maleficent. Not mention several other wicked things I've shown her to do."

"Yes, but still, she's not as jaded as you or I. She has a touch of innocence to her. I can see it in her eyes."

"_Nothing_ is innocent."

"So you keep saying." She gives him a perceptive look. "And yet, I can see that it's both her innocence and her wickedness that appeal to you. Well, I can certainly understand that." She smirks. "After all it's the best of both worlds, isn't it? The light and the dark …"

"That's enough."

"Aren't you just a little bit worried that this one might break you?"

They're at the door now, and she lets go of his arm. She doesn't looks mocking, or contemptuous, or even amused.

She simply looks genuinely curious as to what his answer will be.

"I'll be sending you the spinning wheel as soon as your raven arrives," he tells her.

For a moment, she looks like she's considering pressing the issue, but then she seems to think better of it.

"Very well. Oh, and Rumple? If your student ever wants a change of pace in her magical instruction, you ought to send her to_ me_ for some lessons. But then, she might like learning from me so much that she never comes back to you."

"No she wouldn't," he says, before her can stop himself.

She gives him a smile that seems almost genuine. "I suspect you're right about that. Until next time, my friend," she says, and vanishes in a flash of magic.

When he returns, Regina's rearranging his work table, and she does not look up to meet his eyes.

"You were right about that pastry," she says. "It could have used a bit of cinnamon."

"I suppose," he says softly. He moves to stand behind her, and she stills. "Even so, you did manage the conjuring spell. I'm quite pleased with your progress. Do you know Maleficent offered to supplement your magical education?"

"Well, that might be fun."

"Indeed. She seemed to think you'd enjoy it so much that you wouldn't want to leave her tutelage to return to mine."

"Impossible," Regina whispers.

"Oh?"

She turns then. "Rumple, you _know _I –"

He kisses her. He kisses her hard, leaving her breathless, wanting her to focus only on desire, only on the heat and lust between them.

"Rumple –"

"No more talking," he whispers huskily in her ear. "Not unless you're going to scream my name while I'm inside you."

Regina bites back a moan of eagerness. "And what makes you think I'd do that?"

"Oh you will, my wicked one. I'll _make_ you."

And before she can think of a comeback, he scoops her up in his arms and carries her to his bed, and does precisely that.


End file.
